


Sunday Morning

by mssrj_335



Series: FinnPoe Purple Prose [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cooking, Could be canon tho, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Finn's so in love, Fluff, Inspired by Music, M/M, Older Characters, POV Finn (Star Wars), Purple Prose, Soft Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335
Summary: Finn finds Poe making breakfast and can't help feeling more than a little in love.
Relationships: Finn/Poe Dameron, Finnpoe, Poe Dameron/Finn
Series: FinnPoe Purple Prose [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744870
Comments: 16
Kudos: 53





	Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by norah jones turn me on  
> i just wanted soft boys ok

The first thing he hears in the morning is music. Something mellow and jazzy slow-dancing him out of slumber. Old school hi-fi coruscating on the airwaves. Then he hears singing, smells bacon. Bread. Finn sighs deep into his pillow. Letting a little luxury soak in his skin with the late morning sun before he pulls himself upright. Too many joints pop on his way to the bathroom. Fingers a bit stiff still as he brushes his teeth. He finds Poe in the kitchen and can't stifle the smile creeping on him when he stops in the doorway.

Poe’s swaying by himself, looking soft, inviting. Those damn glasses perch on his nose and his curls fluff tousled and grey. He doesn’t turn his head when Finn comes the rest of the way in. He’s bare-chested. Worn cotton pants slung low on his hips. Bacon sizzles soundtrack to the song he’s humming. Making breakfast on a late Sunday morning. It’s nothing Finn hasn’t seen before but he never, ever gets tired of seeing it. So he indulges himself. Slides his hands from Poe’s back to his hips to his stomach, seating himself right at home between Poe’s shoulders. Ten years ago, Poe would’ve jumped. Lashed out. But ten years is enough time to mellow and all he does instead is tilt his head back to rest in the waiting crook of Finn’s neck.

“You feelin’ brave today?” he murmurs in Poe’s good ear.

“Maybe.” Poe’s voice is still deep from sleep, ringing like a long call home right under Finn’s breastbone. “You in the mood for bacon?”

Finn kisses the side of Poe’s neck. Under his ear and into his smile when Poe leans a little further back. “I’m always in the mood for bacon.”

The hand that’s not holding greasy tongs reaches back, weaves into Finn’s locs to pull him a little closer. Finn adjust his hold. Fingers find safe harbor in the hollow at Poe’s throat.

“You sure you’re in the mood for bacon and not somethin’ else?” Poe asks.

His mouth smiles like he’s teasing. But as he turns Finn sees the invitation sliding under Poe’s lashes like a love letter. Creased at the corners. Burning with words, waiting to be opened. Just for him. That’s a letter he’s read before and one he’ll read again and again until the words blur and there’s only memory left to tell him what it once said. It feels like they’ll never fade and Finn’s heart aches with it. Sometimes it’s the little things that make him feel so complete.Contentment, wrapping him from head to toe.

“How about we do breakfast?” Finn asks, trailing kisses from Poe’s neck, down his arm to his fingertips. He pops one on Poe’s palm, covers Poe’s hand with his own as it flattens against his cheek. “Then see what else we’re in the mood for?”

Poe’s eyes darken. He turns off the gas. Bacon’s done but he’s definitely not. Finn smirks.

Guess breakfast can wait.


End file.
